


The Very Thought of You

by irlangel, toules



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Pining, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 20:58:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7122325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irlangel/pseuds/irlangel, https://archiveofourown.org/users/toules/pseuds/toules
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I want to love you like my mother always said I should.<br/>We'll live together in a cabin made of cedar wood.<br/>I'll give you everything and you'll be my everything too.<br/>Oh baby, I love you.</p><p>In which Matt and Michael are long distance boyfriends yearning to see each other again, and they use phone calls and cheesy texts to lift their spirits. It works, sort of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Very Thought of You

**Author's Note:**

> this started out as a joke about how matt looked at the bag of oats like he loved it in open haus #65 but now i'm stuck in hell HELP

It had been a slow morning in the Funhaus office, everyone too tired to crack any good jokes before the cameras started rolling. They all sit in relative silence, working individually, the only sounds in the room being the occasional cough from Lawrence and an asinine remark about Overwatch from Adam to James. Matt takes a sip of his coffee, paying no mind when James announces it’s time to start Open Haus, and just starts rolling his camera and audio with the rest of them.

 

The questions this week are easy enough. Lawrence shares a particularly revolting story about eating slimy, spoiled chicken because there wasn’t anything else to eat in his dorm room in college, and Bruce replies with a story about how he found a ten dollar roll of quarters in a gutter when he was a teen. They laugh with ease and soon the life of the jokes and lighthearted jabs came back into the office as if it’d been there all along.

 

Matt answered questions when they’re batted to him, chuckling a couple of times about the comments on the fifty pound bag of oats in the chair next to him. He remains otherwise focused on his work, the Open Haus questions on Google Docs minimized until he needed to read one off while he worked on editing a video for Achievement Hunter’s next episode of Rage Quit. Even though there was no camera footage of Michael’s reactions, Matt can clearly imagine the ginger’s flushed face as he screams angrily into his microphone, freckles barely visible against the deep shade of red his cheeks turn when he dies for the sixth time in a row. Matt adjusts the audio of Michael slamming his fists on his desk and shouting “Goddamnit!” in frustration, but the most he can think of is the Jersey boy’s thick auburn curls and honey colored eyes welling up in unshed tears of anger and defeat as he fails the first level  _ again. _

 

He’s snapped back into reality when he hears James reading the next question, cheeks dusted pink in embarrassment when he hears what it is.

 

“ChurchAml asks, um… If you had to take any one of the Achievement Hunters out on a date, who would you take and where would you go?”

 

Matt’s heart flutters nervously in his chest and he puffs out a quiet breath he didn’t realize he was even holding, paying attention entirely now as each of the members give their response. Elyse says she’d take Jack, but only to get to his wife, because “Caiti is delightful!” Lawrence says he’d take Ryan, and everyone laughs when he adds that he’d  _ definitely  _ put out on the first date.

 

Adam says he and James would tag-team Michael, and when James agrees Matt can feel something ache in his chest. They proceed to stand to demonstrate exactly how they’d fuck Michael after the date was over, and Matt picks at his bottom lip when Adam takes the bag of oats out of the chair next to him to shove between his and James’ hips as a visual aid. Bruce says he’d take Jeremy out to Chick-fil-A because “He’s young, he won’t know the difference.”

 

“Peake, what about you?” James asks and Matt hums in thought, trying to play it off that his immediate thought wasn’t  _ Michael,  _ even though he was the obvious choice _. _

“Uh, I think that only leaves Gavin doesn’t it?”

 

Everyone corrects him, saying there’s a ton more that just those few they listed. Lawrence sighs through his nose and tries to change his answer quickly.

 

“Oh shit, no I should take Geoff! We can just get shitfaced together!”

 

“Oh yeah, Geoff, I should say Geoff.” Matt mumbles, scratching his beard and deciding he can get away with this afterthought, “I was gonna say Michael because I’ve been editing him all day so he’s on my mind but um…” His voice trails off, second guessing himself as he always does. What if it  _ was  _ weird to say it like that? James raises his eyebrows and looks into his and Adam’s shared webcam, and Matt continues before they move on to the next question. “Michael and Gavin, why not?”

 

“Oh, so they can Eiffel Tower you!” Bruce jokes and everyone laughs. Relief sweeps over Matt as the atmosphere in the room clears back to a joking one. Elyse flubs her impression of Jack and sounds more like Bill Cosby, so everyone’s attention turns away from Matt and onto her. Matt feels a mix of respite and pity for Elyse settle in his gut and he sighs softly through his nose, zoning out again and continuing to edit the Rage Quit video.

 

Matt feels excited but nervous for the edit of Gavin  _ and _ Michael Eiffel Towering him, for Omar could do him no wrong. He dimly recognizes the way he felt when he saw James and Adam Eiffel Towering his bag of oats, deemed Michael for the comedic effect, as discomfort and jealousy. He can’t believe he’s getting so worked up about a bag of oats, it wasn’t even Michael. In his daze of editing and answering questions vaguely, Matt doesn’t even realize he looks over at the bag of oats (now wearing a curly wig, mustache, and fez) with such affection in his eyes. Something inside of him naturally smiles when it was associated with Michael, the thought of his lover easing his worries. 

 

He couldn’t decide what he liked best about Michael, his mind trailing to thoughts of the boy’s unruly curls and freckled cheeks. He wanted nothing more than to kiss his soft lips, tangling his fingers in the baby hairs at the back of his neck as he lost himself in Michael’s intoxicating scent. Frustration overwhelms him by the time the cameras stopped rolling and they wrapped up the episode. All he wanted was to at least  _ see  _ Michael, Christ. And Google searches do his face no justice. Matt sighs longingly, wishing he were going to visit the Rooster Teeth office sooner. “It’ll only be two months,” Michael told him as he kissed him softly on the way out the door during Funhaus’ last day in Austin for collabs with Achievement Hunter, “Don’t worry, we can still talk on the phone.”

 

He didn’t even realize he was thumbing at his lips while thinking about him, and snapped out of it. He got back to work and tried to shrug off his thoughts of Michael, but it was really difficult to do when he was the one Matt was editing, frustrated voice coming through his headphones and sending a shiver down his spine. He mechanically edited the rest of the day, stopping only eat a protein bar every now and then for sustenance, gently declining Elyse’s offer to have lunch with her at noon. He switched his monitors off and waited for his computer to power down for the day, tapping out a short message to his boyfriend while he waited, asking him if he was busy later. He goes to add ‘I miss you, I want to hear your voice,’ but he stops himself and erases it, not wanting to sound pathetic.

 

“Hey, Matt, are you going to uh, uh, kiss your bag of oats later? Like when you’re home alone!” Elyse yells teasingly. 

 

Bruce wheezes, struggling to get up and high-five Elyse. “Yeah, Peake, you gonna just… kiss those oats?”

 

Elyse leans over to Bruce, covering her mouth as if she’s whispering but clearly speaking loud enough for Matt to hear. “We got him, Bruce, we really got him. He’s not answering because he’s upset.”

 

Matt shakes his head and chuckles, working on cleaning up his desk area, making sure to toss out the wrappers from the protein bars and yogurt. He pushes himself up out of his office chair and stretches, since he’s been sitting for five hours straight practically.

 

“You taking the oats home for the night, Peake?” Lawrence nags from across the room. 

 

“Yeah, I guess so,” He mumbles as he heaves the fifty pound bag up and swings his bag over his shoulder.

 

“You know, you can hug it in the middle of the night, that’s what I do with my anime body pillows. Sometimes I even….” Lawrence’s bullshit cut off in his mind, he had trained himself to zone the boys out when he was tired of them. 

 

“See you, Peake.” “Bye, Matt!” “Don’t get too frisky with those oats!” The various voices called out as he left the office room. He jingles his keys and mindlessly walks to his car. He clicks the unlock button twice and pops the trunk open, dumping the bag of oats in and shoving his bag off his shoulder. He slides into the driver’s side as he whispers a quiet profanity and slams his head on the steering wheel. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and quickly turns on some music to get his mind off of Michael.  _ Shit _ . This only made things harder, every song seem to have some kind of word or mood that reminded him of Michael. After skipping at least thirty songs in a row, he just switched it off. He started typing something to Michael again, but quickly deleted all of it and just turned on the car, fastening his seatbelt and fiddling with the air conditioning for a minute.

 

\--

 

Work in the Achievement Hunter office that day went unsurprisingly awful, as it always does. Geoff groans at how unproductive they’re being after lunch as he watches as Gavin tries to barricade the door with everyone’s rolling chairs for Ryan to have to fight through once he got back from the bathroom. They record that week’s episode of GO!, but afterwards are left to do as they please. Ryan works on edits silently, and Gavin complains aloud when Geoff pins the task of editing next week’s Minecraft video on him.

 

In other words, it was just another average day at the office.

 

After work, Geoff announces that he, Jack, and Gavin were going to go out and get drinks. Michael declines without much thought into the matter, and Jack gives him a very soft, pitying look like he understands. He pats Michael’s shoulder a couple of times, muttering something about Caiti being in Australia for a convention, and then he heads out the door with Geoff and Gavin just behind him. Michael turns off his computer, asking Jeremy if he’d handle locking up when he left. The younger boy only hums an affirmative, and Michal scrunches up his nose at that before leaving.

 

He whistles while he walks, unlocking his car and getting in the driver’s seat. He gets his phone out of his pocket, eagerly typing a message to his boyfriend before his heart sinks. Right. Matt’s still at work. The distance was agonizing, but the time zone difference gave Michael a headache. Always too excited to talk to Matt after work, he often texts him a silly story about how Barbara had barged into the office and stuck ice down Gavin’s shirt and how funny it was to watch him scream and freak out, but it always ends with him groaning to himself and banging his head on the steering wheel because Matt’s at work and can’t talk.

 

So he erases his message, turning on his car and buckling up, changing the radio station each time a song came on that he didn’t like. He sinks back into the seat at a red light and is overcome with a feeling of emptiness. It’s still three more weeks until he can see Matt again, and his chest aches because the most they can manage are phone calls and the occasional skype call if the time zones permit it. He stays up late to talk to Matt and is already yawning by the time it’s nine in LA. Most of all, it fucking blows because Matt always leaves something at Michael’s house, this time a hoodie, and it still smells like him  _ for fuck’s sake. _

 

The rest of his evening is dull, he takes a hot shower and scrubs the day’s grime away and then retreats to his kitchen to make dinner. He finds himself too drained to manage to make anything more than macaroni and cheese and some steamed vegetables in the microwave. It’s not enough and definitely not as nutritious as it could be, but it fills him up anyways and he figures he’ll get an earful about not eating right from Matt later anyhow.

 

Around nine, he goes to his bedroom and curls up under the mass of blankets on his bed. He turns off the bedside lamp and finds something to watch on Netflix before he hears his phone next to him beep. His heart jumps up in his throat and his cheeks heat up, embarrassed. He curses himself for being so goddamn fickle when he snatches his phone up immediately to check the message. Sure enough, it’s Matt, and Michael can feel his shoulders relax as he slumps back against his pillows.

 

‘Are you busy tonight?’

 

Michael decides not to reply immediately, not so he doesn’t seem desperate, because Christ knows he is; but because he’s too distracted by his television at the moment. He settles on an episode of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia and turns down the volume before directing his attention back to his phone screen. His heart flutters when he sees the “...” bubble indicating Matt had more to say. He stares down that little grey bubble for a few long moments before it just disappears. His fingers twitch, hoping for it to pick back up again, but it never does. That deep set dread from the car returns and he rolls over on his side and types back, ‘No I’m just laying in bed right now do you want to talk when you get home?’

 

\--

 

Matt pulls into his driveway, powers his car off, and immediately checks his phone for a reply. He feels a pull at his heart string as he realizes the reply was at 7:07, and it was 7:20. The only damn time the commute from work to home bothers him are times like these. He starts to type a ‘I just really want to hear your voice’ and a ‘It’s been such a long day and all I need is to feel near you’, but he scraps anything like that. He decides on a simple ‘Yeah, it’d be nice. Long day at work.’ 

 

With that, he locks his phone a puts it in his front pocket and takes his keys out of the ignition before getting out of his car and locking it, the horn honking once in response. He unlocks the back door and steps inside, kicking off his shoes in the laundry room before heading to his living room and patting his dog’s back briefly. He lingers in his kitchen for a minute, deciding against getting food immediately and settling for getting a bottle of water from the fridge, hanging his keys up on the keyrack tacked to the wall by the counter.

 

He goes back to his bedroom and shrugs off his hoodie, tossing it in a hamper by his closet door and stripping down to his boxers, pulling on a pair of grey sweatpants and sitting down on his bed. The mattress squeaks in protest and he takes out his phone again, smiling a bit when he sees Michael’s reply and scratching his scruffy cheek.

 

‘Totally Bruce’s fault right?’

 

He sits back against his pillows, swinging his legs up onto the bed with him and opening his bottle of water as he watches the grey “...” for a couple of seconds, taking a swig of water as he waits for the afterthought.

 

‘Are you okay?’

 

He wanted to tell him that he couldn’t get him off his mind, that everything wasn’t ok when he wasn’t there with him. 

 

‘Yeah, we just had an Open Haus filming. Those can be tough sometimes, you never know who’s going to say what. Sometimes I get stressed thinking about having to edit all of it out later.’

 

‘...’ was all he saw for 3 straight minutes and it made him feel nervous, like he somehow overstepped and fucked this up. Like Michael was going to tell him he made out with Gavin because he’s tired of this long distance nonsense, or that he was just going to blow him off and go to bed. He shakes off the tightness in his chest, or tries to at least, and quickly texts something else to change the subject, worried he lingered on himself for too long.

 

‘Did you eat well? Was your day alright? Sorry.’

 

Fuck. Why did he put the sorry? He didn’t have to, he just felt like he needed to. He could have just left it. God, he wants to just call him and hear his voice. But he can’t, Michael could have gone to take a shower or maybe something urgent came up. He pushes back his hair, as if it was in his face at all, and sits back to flip through the channels on the TV. He figures it’s better to distract himself from worrying rather than waiting around for the buzz of a reply. 

 

‘It’s okay it’s sweet that you’re concerned. Today was good. Gav tried to barricade the office so Ryan couldn’t get in but Ryan just ended up throwing the chairs and tackling Gavin. So a normal day. I ate earlier when I got home I had some mac n cheese and microwave veggies.’

 

Matt sighs in relief, apparently not fucking anything up. Christ, he really has to stop worrying as much as he does. He frowns a bit when he reads what Michael had for dinner, but he’s no better off, only making time for protein bars and one of Elyse’s yogurts from the office fridge all day. Hell, he hasn’t even had dinner yet, so he lets this slide this time.

 

‘I’m going to cook you a real meal next time I’m at your house.’

 

‘Can’t wait’

 

Their casual banter puts Matt at ease like everything’s gone back to normal, as if it ever wasn’t normal. He pulls his quilt over his legs and sets the water bottle down on his nightstand by his Bible and an empty bottle of Advil. He adjusts the pillows behind his back and changes the channel to the weather and turns it down so it’s just barely audible.

 

‘Can I call?’ He taps out, sending it too quickly before he can second guess his decision. He cusses quietly, still a little embarrassed. It’s probably better that he doesn’t over analyze every text he sends anyways.

 

‘Please’

 

\--

 

“Hey, handsome,” Michael coos as he picks up the phone, and Matt replies with a warm chuckle that makes Michael grin and makes a warm feeling spread throughout his chest like he’s a teenager with a crush.

 

“Hey, angel.” Matt replies softly and it kind of makes Michael want to sob because even though it’s only been two days since they last spoke over the phone, it feels like this is the first time he’s heard Matt’s voice in  _ years  _ and it’s kind of overwhelming.

 

“I miss you.” Michael blurts out with a shaky voice like he really  _ is _ about to cry, but he closes his eyes against the harsh light of his television, vaguely recognizing the voices as Kaitlin Olson and Danny DeVito arguing on screen about something or another.

 

“I miss you too.” Matt says, and when Michael opens his eyes the tears are still in his eyes but they’re no longer threatening to fall. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and laughs wryly into the phone, piqued by his own emotions. They just started this call, he doesn’t want to be crying like a baby this early.

 

“What time is it there?” Michael asks even though he already knows. It’s habit at this point, even though he’s no longer thrown off by the time zone differences.

 

“It’s 7:41. What time is it there?”

 

“9:41.”

 

It’s quiet for a beat, and Michael lets his eyes slide closed, just listening to Matt breathe and shift around on his bed. He sucks in a deep breath through his teeth that he can hear Matt begin to question, but he cuts off his concern quickly.

 

“What… What are you doing?” He asks, scrunching his eyebrows in frustration at himself when he hears how small his voice comes out. Matt huffs out a long sigh through his nose, and Michael can’t really discern whether he’s about to tell him  _ not tonight  _ or if he was about to acquiesce to his wishes.

 

“Sorry,” He begins to backtrack, suddenly feeling less confident about his decision, probably a habit he’s picked up from Matt over their nine months of being together. Matt just chuckles again, softer this time and reassuring Michael that everything’s fine.

 

“It’s okay, Michael,” Matt begins, and Michael can hear him shift his weight on his bed, the rusty box springs creaking in response. “I’m in bed right now. What are you doing?” He questions and Michael rolls over on his back, staring up at the ceiling as he tries to think of something even somewhat seductive to say to get this ball rolling.

 

“I don’t know, I just,” Michael heaves a loud, frustrated groan and covers his eyes with his free hand, “I’m so tired of having these conversations! I wish you were really here so we could  _ actually  _ fuck and then you could really make me a nice meal.” He rambles, not really caring how pathetic he sounds, just really needing to get it out in the open.

 

“You’re cute,” Matt begins, and Michael can practically  _ feel _ his dumbass grin on the other end of the line, “I love you.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

“Alright, baby... Are you gonna be good for me?”

 

And just like that, the mood completely changes. Michael wheezes out a harsh breath and slips easily, too easily, into his role. God they have these conversations too often, their relationship has become more phone sex than actual sex. But still, it’s sex nonetheless…

 

“I always am, aren’t I?”

 

Matt hums an affirmative in reply, a breathy laugh trailing behind that, “You always are.” He repeats and he chews on his bottom lip, “What are you wearing?”

 

“Nice cliché.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“No, I’m,” Michael laughs and it turns to a content hum at the end as he continues, “I’m just in a t shirt and boxers.”

 

“Take your shirt off.” Matt quips back without a moment of hesitation and Michael’s always too eager to follow instructions, itching for approval or maybe a pat on the head and a cookie. Matt hears the shuffling of covers on the other end of the line and Michael turns the phone on speaker, finally muting his television and stripping out of his t shirt, tossing it on the floor next to the bed. He goes to pick up the phone again but then remembers it’s on speaker and stops himself, fingers twitching. He’s not sure what to do with his hands and just lets one rest on his pale stomach, the other one resting on the inside of his left thigh.

 

“Tell me what you want, baby.”

 

That’s such a loaded question, Michael lets his eyes flutter closed in thought and starts rubbing up and down his inner thigh slowly. He breathes out softly, opening his eyes again, kind of hoping that when he opened them Matt would be there above him. Unfortunately, not all of Michael’s wishes came true.

 

“I wish you were here, fuck- My thighs are still sensitive from when your beard rubbed them raw when you ate me out last time you were here.”

 

“Still?”

 

“Uh-huh, I’m running my hands over them now and they keep twitching. They still kind of hurt, but it reminds me of the last night you were over so every time my jeans rub the spots at work I can’t stop thinking about it and- and-” Michael sputters, face flushed at the memory of his face shoved in his own pillow while Matt spread his cheeks apart with his hands, rimming him open while Michael rolls his hips back desperately.

 

Michael breathes in unevenly and tests his luck, dipping a shaky hand beneath the waistline of his boxers and palming at his half hard cock. He gives it a couple of slow pumps, moaning softly with a closed mouth. He can hear Matt shifting on the other end of the line and can tell he’s readjusting too, getting in a more comfortable position to tug his sweatpants and his boxers down just enough for him to pull his cock out.

 

“Did you..” A shaky breath, “like when I did that?”

 

“ _ Fuck  _ yes.” Michael says breathlessly, pumping his cock at a more even pace, flicking his thumb over the sensitive slit and catches a salty bead of precum on the pad of his fingertip. Matt groans in response, and Michael can hear the soft wet sound of Matt getting himself off too.

 

“Maybe I’ll do it again then, rim you out until your legs are shaking. I’d take my time, make sure you were open and wet for me.” Michael gasps aloud, cheeks flushed pink and his hand falters at the image that crosses his mind. His legs trembling and he sobs into the pillow, the burn from Matt’s beard on the backs and insides of his thighs sending mixed signals of pain and pleasure to his brain, precum leaking thick, sticky beads and dripping on his bed sheets. He pumps his cock faster at the thought, moaning softly, and Matt takes this as the green light to keep going.

 

“I’d bite your thighs too, suck purple love bites on them so whenever you jerked off after that you could dig your fingers into the bruises and remember what I did to you. You’ve always been one for pain, haven’t you?”

 

“Oh fuck-” Michael’s sweating as he spreads his legs, thighs far apart so the stretch of the muscles sends a shiver down his spine and the pleasure goes straight to his balls. His rhythm falters momentarily but picks back up, and he’s sure Matt can hear the wet sound of him bringing himself off, but at this point he doesn’t really care. He squeezes his eyes shut and feels a warmth spread throughout his gut and between his thighs. “Matt, Matt-”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I want to cum. God, Matt, can I come? Please,  _ please _ , I’ve been good I need to cum-” Michael babbles out, and Matt will be the first to admit that Michael’s sex banter makes him weak in the knees. Even just thinking about Michael losing control, probably not even hearing himself and not making any sense, really fucks him up.

 

“Yeah.  _ Yeah,  _ of course you can cum, Michael. You’re so good. I’m right here with you.”

 

Michael’s hips buck up in time with the strokes of his hand and he gets frantic, no rhythm needed at this point, flushed red down to his neck and fucking up into his hand with earnest. He lets out a few shuddering moans and gasps before he’s cumming with a louder moan, pumping himself through his orgasm until he feels like his dick’s gonna fall off from how sensitive it is. By the time he comes down from his high, Matt already came and they’re both breathing hard. Matt excuses himself to go wash his hands and clean up and he suggests Michael do the same, but the most the exhausted boy can manage is picking up a damp towel on the floor from his shower and wiping himself off.

 

Michael pulls on a pair of clean boxers before climbing back into bed, collapsing on his plush pillows and letting his eyes slide shut until Matt returns. Matt picks up the phone again and climbs back into bed as well, lying on his back and holding the phone by his ear as he spoke softly.

 

“You alright, peaches?” He asks in concern, and Michael hums happily at the familiar petname. He takes this sound as a good one and sighs in relief, visibly relaxing and pulling his quilt up to his chest.

 

“I’m okay, are you?”

 

“Of course I am.”

 

Silence stayed with both the lines for a few seconds. Matt sighs, adjusting himself to sit up at the side of the bed. 

 

“Hey, I’m going to go get some food. Shouldn’t be too long.”

 

“Have you not eaten yet?” Michael asks in concern, and guilt settles in his chest briefly when he only gets a dismissive reply in return.

 

Matt pushes his hair back as he stands, lazily making his way to the kitchen. He flicks on the lightswitch, squinting whenever the overhead flickers on. He opens the fridge, stares for a minute or two, not really processing too much what he’s doing. He decides on a pre-packaged salad and an overpriced fruit juice, and tosses them over on the counter. He slides the drawer out, grabs a fork, and picks up his “dinner” to head back to his room. 

 

“Hey, I’m back.”

 

“Hmm, welcome back.” Matt smiled at the sound of the faint show playing in the distance. It was probably Always Sunny, like usual. He mixes all the components of his packaged salad together, and really just picks at it rather than eating. He takes a swig of his juice and a breath in. 

 

“You know, I just uh,” Matt hesitated, “I really couldn’t get you off my mind all day. It’s ridiculous, but that fifty pound bag of oats I ordered came in today, and there was some question where the guys said they would Eiffel Tower you and used that as a prop between them and it was like I got  _ jealous  _ about a bag of oats that was just labeled you. I mean, it does make sense, but I dunno.. Just dumb, I guess.”

 

_ Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck.  _ He said too much. Michael didn’t care that he thought about him, he already knew. Matt nervously shoves a few forkfuls of salad into his mouth, just to keep him from saying anything more. 

 

Michael’s quiet for a moment before he erupts in a fit of giggles, and Matt’s heart jumps at the familiar sound. “You must really miss me to get so worked up over oats, huh?” He teases, though not in a rude or demeaning way how he likely would if it were anyone else. Matt doesn’t have a reply, so Michael hums in thought, weighing his options of what to say next.

 

“You know,” He mutters like this is some secret just between him and Matt, like there’s anyone else in the room with either of them who could hear this. “I think of you a lot too, the guys do things sometimes that mirrors Funhaus. Like today when Gavin stacked up all our rolling chairs to block Ryan out but he still got in and tackled him anyways, I thought of James and Adam. Geoff just looked so exasperated and shook his head, it was funny, but it reminded me how you’d act if that happened in your office.”

 

Matt smiles that wide and crinkly smile he always does, and Michael could practically see it over the phone. “Yeah, that is something that would happen here. Except maybe Lawrence would come in to try to build the joke, but really just ruin it.” He scratches at his beard, with a lack of knowledge of what to say next. “I, uh… Sorry, I don’t have anything to say but I just really want to keep talking.”

 

“It’s okay,” Michael breathes out, but it devolves into a sleepy yawn. “Today was pretty uneventful for both of us.” He says, taking Matt’s lack of further conversation as a sign of boredom. “But we can talk in person in three weeks.” He mumbles, sounding hopeful but trying to not to sound pathetic like he was literally counting the days until they’d see each other again.

 

“Are you tired?” Matt asks gently, not wanting to keep Michael up if he was fighting to stay awake. Michael makes an “uh-uh” sound in his throat and Matt can hear the covers shifting and Michael getting into a more comfortable position. He sneaks a glance at the alarm clock on his nightstand and sees that it’s 8:36, so it’s probably right that Michael’s already winding down for bed. He vaguely remembers Michael mentioning something about having to be on an episode of the RT Podcast and filming always started pretty early in the day, so he feels a little guilty for keeping Michael up when he had a busy day tomorrow.

 

“You should get to bed.”

 

“I  _ am  _ in bed.”

 

“Michael-”

 

“Yeah, I know.” Michael whines at that, not wanting to go to bed so soon even if it would help him function better tomorrow. He wants to say fuck it and just down his weight in Red Bulls tomorrow morning, but he knows Matt would never let that happen. “Okay, fine.” Matt can see Michael’s pout perfectly if he closes his eyes, and that makes him smile a bit.

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

“Good night, Michael.”

  
“Good night,  _ asshole _ .”


End file.
